


Little Flower

by ExtremeLight9



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Be Ready For Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Crying, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Grief, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Sickness, Stealing for Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtremeLight9/pseuds/ExtremeLight9
Summary: Whenever he saw her, she always looked so sad. Wormwood decided he would do whatever it takes to help this little human smile.
Relationships: Wendy & Wormwood
Comments: 13
Kudos: 52





	1. Grow

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone, I’m back with a new fic. I had this idea for a while and it turned out longer than I expected it.  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own the DS games.  
> Enjoy!

From his spot behind the pine tree, Wormwood watched quietly as the two humans went around their camp. Yes, humans. That’s what he learned they were called. One was orange and hairy while the other was huge with red stripes. The latter opened up a bag and began stuffing his face with berries.

“Wolfgang…” the hairy one said warningly, looking up from the axe he was sharpening.

“Sorry!” _Wolfgang_ muttered with his mouth stained red.

“Heh, it’s alright, buddy. Just save some for me, eh?”

He had been watching them for a while and they didn’t appear unfriendly toward each other. He tensed up when the hairy one stood up. “I’m gonna go chop some wood. Watch over the place, alright?”

“Yes, wood man!” Wolfgang gave him a serious salute, which looked funny considering their jarring size differences.

Wormwood caught the hairy human oddly whispering to his axe once he thought he was out of sight before hurrying off. Now with the one with the scary tool gone, Wormwood felt comfortable enough to step out and walk to the remaining one. The man looked even larger the closer he got yet the living root still felt strongly optimistic.

“Wood man, why back so quick-” Wolfgang froze as soon as he laid his eyes on Wormwood.

“Hi!” Wormwood waved at him, giving his biggest and friendliest grin. Wolfgang in return released an ear-piercing scream and was quick to reach for his hammer.

“Die, evil plant man!”

Screaming, Wormwood bolted away with the tower of a man chasing after him.

At one point he was sure the human had stopped chasing him, but he kept running regardless until he made it into a clearing. The air was stale and misty while the soil squishy with mounds of dirt everywhere. Pale rectangular stones were sticking out of the mounds with scribbles that he couldn’t understand written on them. Panting, he leaned against one and tried to catch his breath. That could have gone a lot better, he thought.

But he should have expected it by now. Sinking against the stone, he looked at his leafy hands. Why did everyone always react like that when they see him? He wasn’t that scary…at least he hoped. He just never got the chance to show them that and was running out of things to try.

It was in that moment while pushing pebbles around idly that he heard humming. The mist was coiling and slithering throughout the gloomy place, yet the gentle humming persisted in its eeriness. Any other person would have run away, but he was curious by nature. He had to know where it was coming from. He walked beside a long line of the jutting stones in wonder until he finally saw the source of the singing sitting beneath an old statue with wings.

It was a human child. She looked impossibly pale and boney with a mass of blonde hair draped on her back. While the other humans Wormwood came across were quite expressive, this one’s face was devoid of emotions as she hummed that creepy song. Why was she all the way out here on her own?

His previous encounter with the large human still fresh in his mind, he was about to back away when he noticed the flower perched on her head. He touched the leaf on his head in return with realization. There was even another flower in her hands. Despite her cold and lifeless appearances, her boney fingers caressed the flower tenderly.

So she liked flowers as he did? By now Wormwood’s confidence grew massively and he carefully stepped closer. Her vacant eyes caught him and she stopped singing altogether. Her face scrunched up deeply as if having eaten something sour.

“Even root gains sentience. Nature truly is devious,” she said, her voice quiet and barely above a whisper.

What…did any of that mean? Wormwood scratched his head. Well, she wasn’t running away or screaming like everyone else so that was a good sign, right? Having enough experience with scaring potential friends, he tried to lower his voice and offer a nervous smile. “Um, hello. I’m Wormwood!”

“Leave me alone, root,” she said and ignored him in favor of tending to the tiny flower.

Wormwood’s face fell a little, but he was not discouraged. He could still win over this human. Bringing his leafy hands together timidly, he tried saying something nice. “I like flowers too. Yours are pretty,”

The human looked at him again, her blank eyes narrowing in annoyance before widening. Wormwood briefly worried he offended her somehow when he was frightened by heavy steps. Spinning around, he was greeted by a creature so huge he had to turn his head up just to get a glimpse of its face. It was black and white with fur that looked thick enough for him to sink into it. The giant’s claws alone were the size of Wormwood’s head!

It was walking almost absentmindedly while sniffing the air before its beady eyes settled on the living root.

“Oh,” Wormwood gulped and sought help from the human only to see her small figure gone from beneath the statue, having fled without making a sound. Knees shaking, he turned to the giant and tried greeting it. “Friend?”The Bearger licked its muzzle and made a grab for him instead.

Wormwood fled for his life. A deafening roar came from the monster as it chased them out of the graveyard, the ground shaking with every step. He ran for all he's worth until the child was almost within reach. Despite her quiet and nimble escape, her short legs didn’t carry her far. “Help!”

“Stop following me!” she said back.

 _“But I’m scared!”_ Wormwood shrieked as the giant knocked over several trees in its pursuit of them. Suddenly, the Bearger stopped and turned to a berry bush, giving the human child time to hide behind a big rock. He joined her in her hiding spot, much to her dismay.

“Leave,”

“Please,”

Now that the distance between them was gone, he finally got a good look at her. She was far shorter than he was and her clothes were dirty. She kept glancing down at the flower in her hand almost impatiently. Wormwood stared at it too in puzzlement and sensed something…off. Despite it being only the two of them here, he could faintly hear another voice coming from inside it.

The Bearger meanwhile approached the bush and Wormwood watched in horror as it ripped out the entire thing and tossed its mouth, munching loudly before spitting out the leaves. He suddenly never had been more terrified of anything in his life. The giant’s nostrils picked up on their scent and they became the center of its attention once more.

“It still hungers,” the child glared at Wormwood. “What do you have that is luring it to us?”

He was cowering into a ball, the branch on his head curling on itself. “I don’t know! I only have these to make more friends!” he showed her a handful of seeds that he found this morning. She stared at him blankly before snatching them and tossing them in front of the giant. 

“No!” Wormwood reached out only for the giant to bend down and snatch them away with its tongue, making him slump on the rock. “I could have made more friends…”

Satisfied, the Bearger took its leave while the child hummed thoughtfully. “The idea might have some charm to it, but I have no intention of being devoured by such a gluttonous beast,”

Well, that’s a strange thing to say. Wormwood blinked in confusion and quickly went after her. “Wait, flower friend!”

He was met with a chilling glare. Despite her size, she was quite intimidating. “I’m not your friend. You’re nothing but a nuisance, so leave me be, root!”

“But…but that can change! We can all be friends; you, me, and whispering flower!”

That made her freeze up in her tracks. “What did you say?” she murmured, her large eyes pouring into him. He was taken aback by her sudden interest and realized her attention was almost as unsettling. She held the flower in her hands, her brows furrowed. “You can hear it?”

Wormwood beamed at that. “O-of course! I can hear all plant friends, even if the tiny flower sounds weird…”

Her once-vacant eyes sparked with intrigue. Thoughts were clearly swirling inside her head as she considered this. She turned around. “Follow me,”

Wormwood gasped and was quick to join her side. “Yes, flower friend!”

“It’s Wendy,” she said curtly.

The sun began to dip in the horizon during their journey. Wendy turned out to live in the place where the trees were puffy and in different shades of yellow, orange, and red. Wormwood found them very pretty. She had a small camp set up with a fire pit, a grass bedroll, and three rabbit traps lying about. “Flower friend has a nice home,”

“It serves its purpose,” she said. “And stop calling me that,”

His leaf drooped and he looked around further until he noticed something odd. “What’s that?” he pointed at a clearing ahead where black pillars stood. They were sharp and ominous.

“Obelisks. It’s a central point of mystical energies. Strange forces have led me to this particular place, so I made camp here,” Wendy said while starting a fire. 

This human sure had a lot of funny words. Wormwood seriously wondered if she could say anything that he would fully understand. He returned his attention to the ‘obelisks’ and, in the dying light of the sun, could have sworn seeing shadowy things gliding from the sky toward there.

“Let us begin,” Wendy showed him her flower. “Tell me what you hear,”

Smiling confidently, Wormwood stepped over and examined the flower from a closer distance. It looked much like all the other flowers he came across, that was for sure. The noise was still there though, quiet yet constant. “Can I hold?”

Wendy’s mouthed thinned before carefully placing it into hands with a guarded look. His reassuring smile fell the second it fell in his possession as a cold feeling crept through his body. “Feels weird…”

While his green core pulsed with warmth, a chilling air hung over the flower that prickled at his leaves. How could something that looked so innocent give such a feeling of…wrongness? And how did the girl seem fine when holding it?

Growing more uneasy by the moment, he brought the flower closer to his face and listened to the whispers. They reminded him of the sounds he heard from underwater when standing by a lake or pond. The voice was soft and small, like a little bird. “Hmm, sounds like flower friend,”

Wendy looked like she had been struck by something as she stared at him. “How…?” her gaze fell on his core and she set a pale hand over it, understanding flashing in her eyes. “A green gem; construction, life. No wonder…”

“That tickles!” Wormwood giggled.

She was silent for a brief moment, looking up at him and then his gem in a conflicted way before sighing. “Alright, root. I will allow you to stay here,”

Stunned briefly at her words, a wide smile spread on Wormwood’s face and he could have jumped in joy. Finally, after searching for so long he had an actual friend, one who invited him to stay with them even!

Still reeling from the offer, he was about to scoop her up into a hug when she held up a firm hand at him. “Keep your distance and we should be on good terms,”

Grinning nervously at her sharp warning, he nodded. “Thank you, flower friend!”

“It’s- never mind,”

**\----------**

Wendy was broken from her thoughts by the noises coming from the other side of the camp where she decided the root would stay. After asking her persistently, he was quick to begin making a garden for them and was in the process of planting a long line of seeds, gushing over each one. 

By now Wendy had this being figured out. He was a loud, emotional sack; a naïve fool in a world that wanted them all dead, yet…he somehow seemed out of place compared to all the creatures around here, unnatural she would even dare to say. But having watched him chase after bees and butterflies and gawk at the flowers nearby, she finally concluded that this creature wouldn’t last a month out here.

But no matter how much she wanted to distance herself from this bumbling root, he may still be of use for her. His existence was definitely a unique one and, considering her plans, not taking advantage of it would be a huge mistake.

Hopefully, her patience would last long enough. She thought as she held her axe in a deathly grip. “Move,”

“No!” Wormwood cried as he stood protectively in front of the tree, going as far as to press his back against it. Whenever she moved to another tree, the fool would be right behind her to thwart her attempts to chop it. If her sister was here, she would have found this extremely comical. 

“You’re being childish!”

“Why you hurt friends?”

“We need _wood_. Step aside, root,”

“No!”

Nature was already very much useless in her eyes, so not being allowed to do the one thing it was good for left her feeling sour. If this was some random critter or monster getting in her way, she would have cut through them without a thought, but considering that was not the case right now, she could only rub her temples after they went on like that for a ridiculous amount of time. “How do you _suppose_ we can make fire then?”

“Well…how about- _here!_ ” he desperately ran over and began picking up twigs and fallen branches. “These make fire, right?”

They couldn’t just stand around and wait for every tree to spare them a few branches, but she _really_ didn’t have time for this. It was well past noon already. “Fine, but you will be responsible for getting us more,”

Wormwood sagged in relief, while she could only groan.

They were heading to the grass fields next; her quietness was countered with his cheerful humming and carefree stride.

Truly nauseating.

“Where are we going, flower friend?” he chirped.

“I just need to see something,” she said vaguely as the spot she was looking for finally came into view. Several rabbit holes were scattered about with traps left over them. There was smoke in the distance coming from the other camp. She squinted, making sure no one was around. “Warn me if you see someone,”

“Um…alright,” he said, growing uneasy with her secrecy.

Dropping her axe, she went over to a trap that was shifting around and grabbed the animal beneath, making quick work of killing it. Wormwood yelped behind her at the act, but said nothing as she came back with the trap and the rabbit, pressing both into his hands. “Here, carry them back,”

“All these yours?” he said, marveling at the number of traps around.

“Not really,” she said as she picked up the axe, which was probably not the best answer as his face turned in surprise.

“W-why take then?”

“I’m not very good at hunting, so this is a necessity,” she had no desire of getting mixed up with other survivors and that went for asking for their help too. She gestured to the other traps when he still looked unsure. “They still have plenty so one going missing isn’t a huge loss,”

“I don’t know….” His eyes darted around, clearly not fond of the idea of taking something that was not theirs. Wendy was well-aware of the fact that the numerous people who were brought into this world before them were not all that friendly to each other. They fought, stole, and sabotaged each other to ensure their own chances of survival. What she was doing was nothing in comparison.

She was about to tell him just that when she heard a sound that set off all the alarms in her head; barking. “It’s time already?”

Of all the days to forget bringing a weapon…

“Someone there!” Wormwood called out, pointing at the dark dot in the direction of the camp. One of the beasts must have caught their scent nearby and was coming for them instead. 

“Run, you fool!” Wendy ran ahead as the hound chased them down the field at a startling speed, its eyes wild and ravenous. 

“Where to go?!” Wormwood cried.

Leading it to their camp was a terrible idea and they were still too far from the forest to lose it there. The beast meanwhile was gaining on them. _If only you were here…_ Wendy thought, yet the flower told her that her sister hadn’t found her way back yet.

Gritting her teeth, Wendy came to a stop and turned to face the charging hound, swinging her axe just as it collided with her. With Wormwood’s distressed cry ringing in her ears, she lost her breath as she landed on the ground, her chest throbbing with pain while dots danced in her vision. She felt a pair of hands pick her up and hurriedly carry her away, abandoning their belongings in favor of escaping the stunned beast.


	2. Rise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, glad to be back. Sorry this took a while, but college has been a pain. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this.

Wendy groaned. Her chest and limbs ached. For a moment, she thought she was in death’s embrace, but then felt a familiar pair of leafy hands poking her cheek.

“Flower friend?”

Shame.

She cracked an eye open to see the bumbling root leaning over her head, a starry sky right behind him. 

“Flower friend! You’re awake!” he cheered, looking very relieved.

Feeling like her head was filled with molasses, she blinked the grogginess away and realized she was laying on her bedroll. Her face scrunched up at the sickeningly sweet smell that immediately invaded her nose. “Gross,”

Wormwood laughed as he applied more honey to her injured arm. “No, silly! Sweet sticky stuff is good for hurty!” he already put some on her cheeks and leg where she was also scratched up. She barely resisted reminding him sternly of their agreement of keeping distance, far too winded for that.

Wendy tried to stand up only for her limps to give a painful throb. That hound did a number on her and she was certain she wouldn’t be able to go around for some time.

Wormwood ate the remaining honey off his hands and beamed at her. “Flower friend is so brave!”

“Bravery is the mask of fools,” she grunted. Not only did she lose her axe and the trap, which was the reason for going to those fields to begin with, but the other survivors might have gotten their hands on them by now. Today had been such a waste. Her free hand reached to her pocket for Abigail’s flower only to find it missing. Her eyes widened in alarm. “Where is the flower?!”

He looked taken aback by her urgency before taking it out. “Here,” he set the flower in her hand and her fingers closed around it instinctively. She closed her eyes at the familiar comfort, yet her heart twanged at the thought of today’s events. _Everything is easier when you’re around, Abby…_

“Hey, um, flower friend?”

She sighed and glanced at him. “What?”

Wormwood tilted his head curiously at her. “I like plant friends too, but why tiny flower so special to you?”

She tensed a little despite expecting the question. Looking up at the dark sky, she answered. “It belonged to my sister, Abigail,”

Wormwood nearly jumped in excitement at the new name. “There’s another friend?! Where?” he said, looking ready to dart off with a torch into the darkness to fetch them if he had to.

“She’s dead,”

His excitement plummeted and head leaf drooped at the news. “Dead?…that’s…so sad,”

“She’s not gone. She is merely asleep,” she insisted sharply, holding the flower out.

He clearly didn’t understand her, but then she couldn’t get him to when her sister had been gone for days, having been harmed while protecting her from some bats. Wendy had been all alone to fend for herself since that night.

She stared at the edge of the forest, still as a scarecrow.

“I hear voices at edges of this world, constantly whispering, beckoning. I picked up many dark secrets from them,” she explained, her gaze fixated on the darkness ahead and the ocean beyond it. “There is a way for the dead to be resurrected in this world. I have yet to witness it though,” she said, painfully reminded of staring down at a pulsing pink mass on the ground with a burning in her heart and her sister’s whispers of comfort.

“However, Abigail hadn’t met her end here, but I still wish to find a way to bend the rules and allow her back to life. I just…don’t know how yet,”

Despite death claiming her sister, there was still a chance for them to be reunited here, together and _alive_. All her previous efforts had been futile though and Abigail was still out of her reach.

“That’s…well…look!” he hurried over to the fire pit and brought back a morsel on a stick. “Cooked digger meat. For you!” he held out the mole meat to her.

“I’m not hungry,”

“But flower friend needs food!”

“Just leave me alone…I want to sleep,” she rolled over with a light, pained grunt, staring at the plain tree bark glumly.

“Okay…” he mumbled and she heard him shuffle back to tend to the fire. She brought the delicate flower closer to her face and hoped sleep would take her away again.

**\----------**

Wormwood tossed more twigs into the fire, watching the embers drift around. At the corner of his eye, he could see the human shifting around on the bedroll. He wanted to trust his friend, he really did, but a lot of what she was saying didn’t sound quite right. The skeletons he came across didn’t come back to life, no matter how much he wished they did. It all felt like a child’s imagination, a really sad one’s.

Her story did feel a bit familiar though. It wasn’t the darkness or the ocean that she made him think of but the moon hanging high above instead. He gazed up and placed a hand over his green core. He could sense life shifting all around them in the clearing, from the trees to the very grass and flowers. The glowing shape in the sky was no different. Something up there was alive and brimming with power, something that had been watching him since he first woke up. He didn’t know what it was or what it wanted, but he could feel it staring back constantly. It never spoke back though.

He turned his attention to the human again, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. When she shivered from a cool breeze, he tiptoed over with the grass blanket he slept on and laid it over her.

“Night, night, flower friend,” he said gently and left her side.

When the first slivers of morning peered over the ocean, their fire was nothing but ashes and embers. Having slept on the grass, Wormwood rose up and yawned, stretching stiffly. Wendy had looked a bit surprised by the blanket she got while asleep but said nothing of it.

Since he was staying over at the human's camp, Wormwood offered the idea of bringing some supplies that could be of help from his.

“Sure,” she shrugged. The fact that she couldn’t walk around seemed to dampen her mood further.

“Okay, I will go now,” he said, forcing a smile before heading out. He had gotten so used to her bossing him around and muttering gloomy things he couldn’t understand all the time that this change worried him deeply. He thought she would be better by tomorrow, but that didn’t happen.

His camp was luckily not far. It was inside a cave in the pine forest where he kept his belongings. As he rummaged around, the little human stayed on his mind. Maybe a nice gift would help her feel better? Presents from his plant friends always made him happy after all, but he doubted food would be the thing to cheer her up the same way it was for him.

The problem was that he had nothing else nice to give her. He looked around the cave where buckets of rot and manure were lined up. There was no way she would appreciate any of that. He wasn’t even sure what she _would_ actually like. She didn’t show much interest…in anything really except that tiny flower.

Gathering as many supplies as he could in his backpack, he hurried back since he didn’t want to leave Wendy alone for too long in the state she was in.

“Hey,”

Wormwood turned to a nearby bush that spoke and hurried over to it. “Hello, what is it, bush friend? Wait, why you sound gruffer than normal?”

“I’m not a bush,” Wormwood shrieked when the “bush” stood up to reveal a human in a beefalo suit beneath it. He had a single tooth poking out of his bottom lip.

“A shaggy man,” Wormwood said in awe.

“Hey, kid. I see you got a lot of stuff in there. Would you be willing to trade some of that for somethin’ better?” he said, pulling out a huge sack from nearby shrubs.

 _Something better?_ Wormwood blinked at the offer and his eyes lit up. “Really?”

The man nodded and opened his sack to show off his collection. “Yup, I scavenge around the land for any trinkets and jun- I mean valuables!” his hand disappeared inside the sack. “Like this fine thin’ right here. It shows you where to go if you ever get lost,” he said, holding up a dented compass.

Beyond enthralled now, Wormwood quickly whipped out a gold nugget. “Is this good?”

Wormwood was soon walking back with his bag twice its usual size. He didn’t know what half of these did, but he was sure one of them would please his friend. The human in the beefalo fur said so!

In his absence, he found her somehow having got a hold of some dried grass and seemed to be working on what he assumed to be a rabbit trap, but it looked like a tangled mess than anything, not that she seemed to mind. “Flower friend, I’m back!” he waved breathlessly, slowly coming up in front of her.

“Did you get what you were looking for?”

“Even better!” he dropped the backpack and poured its contents on the ground; shells, statues of little people, toys, and much else.

Wendy stared. “What…is this?”

“Shaggy human gave me for my things,”

“You traded the supplies for _these_?”

Nodding, he picked up the compass and held it out to her. “See? Helpful, spinny thing!”

Wendy massaged her temples. “I hope the beast comes early this winter and saves us the trouble,”

Her eyes then found something among the old trinkets. She picked it up and examined it with surprise. “A book? I didn’t think there could be any around here,”

Sure they were good fuel for fires, but he didn’t expect her to be so interested in that out of everything he brought.

The cover was brown with golden accents and she scanned it curiously. “Tales from the Shroud. It’s a novel,” she said and confusion colored her face. “1967. That’s…interesting,”

“Huh?”

“It’s a story, root,”

“Really?!” Wormwood gasped in delight. “Can you tell? Please!”

Wendy frowned thoughtfully as she eyed the book and actually seemed to be considering it. “Well, it has ages since I’ve read anything-”

“Yes!” he dropped down on his belly in front of her. Sighing, Wendy opened the book. What started as a few pages went on for an hour as they sat there under the orange birtchnut tree with leaves fluttering around and her soft voice reading through each line. He tried listening attentively even with his spinning from all the funny words and names of things he never had seen in his life like “train” and “cinema”, but seeing her eyes narrow with intrigue and overall looking a bit less miserable made it all worth it for Wormwood. 

Feeling satisfied with the distraction she had, he excused himself to go take care of his garden.

“I just realized I’m a little out of practice. I used to read a lot back home,” she said after a while, closing the book and adding almost hesitantly. “I…liked surprising the adults with the things I knew about,”

For a moment, she almost sounded like a child for the first time.

“Have you noticed something odd? The book you gave me is from the year 1967, but where I’m from it was 1914,”

Wormwood crossed his arms, his mind working out the math. He gasped when it struck him. “Wait, flower friend that old?!”

Something akin to amusement briefly flickered in her eyes. “Not exactly. Time has no meaning or hold over this place. It tends to bring all sorts of people,” she said and reached for the water skin left beside her only to realize it was empty. He hurried over.

“No worry! I will fill again!”

“There is a lake not far in the south,” she pointed to a path through the trees and bushes.

“Right!” Wormwood took the skin and followed her instructions only to stop halfway there when he noticed something; a spider nest, tall and lumpy. It was too close to where the camp was and he knew spiders tended to wander far from their homes. Wendy was stuck there and can’t move around easily. If he left her alone with this thing around….

Hurrying back after getting the water, he grabbed the spear next to the fire pit and examined it warily.

“What are you doing?”

He nearly landed in the empty fire pit from the question. “I’m…going on hunt!” he said, taking on a confident post with his spear buried in the grass.

Wendy raised a brow. “You never struck me as a fighter,”

She couldn’t be any more right. In fact, he avoided fighting at all costs, but if it was for the sake of keeping his friend safe then so be it!

“I will make flower friend proud!” Heading back to the nest once more, he approached the webbed ground carefully with his spear, wincing when the silky lump twitched with life.

He might as well try to reason first. “Hello, crawly ones? Could you go somewhere else please? This is _our_ home and my poor friend needs rest,” he waited hopefully, but no reply came. Pouting, he realized a little force was needed after all and put on his most menacing face.

All it took of him was a few steps into their webbed ground for the spiders to come out, hissing and clicking their fangs. Wormwood smacked away the first one that came at him and buried the end of his spear into the head of another with a grimace.

The smell of spilled blood caused a dozen more spiders, dark and golden, to pour out of the silky cocoon in terrifying numbers. Panicking, Wormwood backed away when it became clear there was no way he could take on all of these on his own. They pounced one after the other with him barely being able to knock them back. A spider warrior slammed into him and buried its fangs in his shoulder. He cried out and smacked it away only for more to come. _No, no, no!_

White and red wisps suddenly flared around them as a shapeless, misty figure rose among the monster army. One by one they collapsed as it seemed to suck the very life out of all of them.

“Come here,”

His head whirled around amongst the chaos to see Wendy standing with a hand against a tree for support and the other holding the flower. A blue line seemed to tether the tiny object with the pale being. Terrified out of his mind, he scrambled over to her and watched from afar as the being flew to the remaining ones by the nest and consumed them along with their nest in a shower of searing, red light.

“W-what is that?!”

“It’s my sister, Abigail,” Wendy shrugged as if it should be no surprise. “I told you she haunts me,”

There was nothing for him to say to that. Soon, all that was left of the nest was a pile of silk and monster corpses.

“Well done, Abigail,” Wendy said.

The ghost finally turned to them and Wormwood cried out when she launched herself at him, expecting to meet the same fate as those monsters only to feel no pain at all. The pale being was hovering over him with wide, curious eyes as if she was unsure of what to make of him. A tiny spectral flower adored her head.

“Please, no,” he whimpered, shielding himself.

“It’s okay. He’s…he’s with me,” Wendy said awkwardly.

The ghost tilted her head at him before whispering something he couldn’t understand, but he did recognize the voice he heard; dainty and faint, sounding like it was coming from underwater. He hesitantly tried touching the ethereal string connected to her only to withdraw his hand when an icy feeling bit into his leafy hand, similar to how when he held the flower. Wendy seemed to catch that and her eyes narrowed in thought.

“Okay. Um, so, can she be friend now?” he asked, pointing at the ghost.

Wendy gave a defeated sigh while Abigail twirled around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. To clear up any confusion, I’m using the reworked Wendy instead of the classic one so she still carries Abigail's flower even when her sister is around.


	3. Wither

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, Happy New Year! Thank you also for your support. This is the longest chapter yet.  
> Heads up, the angst begins.

They gathered enough material from the remains of the nest to make some salve for Wormwood’s injury. He then insisted on carrying her back home so she wouldn’t have to limp her way back until she finally gave in. As they made their way back to the camp, Wendy found herself curious about something. “What was your aim from tempting death like that?”

Wormwood’s face turned a darker green at that. “Sorry, I just wanted to keep flower friend safe from crawly bugs,” he said, sheepishly.

“Such an endeavor is unnecessary. I am accepting the possibility of death,”

Wormwood stopped and an uncharacteristic somber look came over his face as he gazed down at her. “Flower friend can keep saying funny stuff like that, but…she will always be my friend. And I don’t want to lose friends,”

Wendy fell silent at that and let him carry her back with Abigail trailing behind them.

A week quickly passed. The most noteworthy thing that happened since was them finding an old axe abandoned near the frog ponds, much to Wormwood’s chagrin. Wendy had gotten much better and no longer limped her way around. Having her sister back also made her feel at ease for the first time in a while. Everything was so dull and dreary without her. There was no one to play with. Well, there was the living root, but he wouldn’t like her idea of “playing” nor did any of the creatures unfortunate enough to come her way for that matter.

“Come back here, floaty friend!”

Speaking of that. She was pulled out of her reading with a groan as Wormwood chased Abigail around the camp, giggling and bouncing so much she could mistake him for one of the annoying frogs.

“I will catch you!” he jumped to “tag” her only for Abigail to rise up just enough for him to miss her and fall on his backside. He stomped his foot in frustration. “That’s not fair!”

The ghost’s face glowed with delight as she continued teasing him.

Abigail had always been energetic and mischievous, so returning to the land of living to find someone just as bubbly was a welcomed surprise for her. Wendy could tell they would’ve been great friends if they met when she was alive.

Wendy was about to go back to her reading when a shadow fell over. It was the two smiling down at her. “What?”

“Flower friend, come play with us!” he said and Abigail nodded eagerly.

“I would rather stay,”

“Come on!”

“I said- hey!” she yelped when he pulled her up and ran with her after Abigail.

“Let me go, you fool!”

“Can’t! We have to catch floaty friend!” Wormwood laughed while Abigail glided around whispering for her to hurry up. Wendy struggled to keep up with him, her shorter legs not helping her at all. Her chest burned from running so much and her feet ached and there was no way on earth for them to catch Abigail anyway. Overall, this was terrible in every sense of the word…yet, something about the burning was oddly pleasant too. She only ran to save her life and gotten used to that fact. Her body never worked itself like this just for the sake of it and she found herself somehow craving it. Pursing her lips, she doubled her efforts to run. She felt the root grow surprised from this, but he tightened his grip on her hand as they sprinted over the grass. The sound of their laughter filled Wendy’s ears.

She hadn’t played with like this anyone since she arrived here, only had with Abigail on the day she…

_A cliff to the sea, her sister’s smile before she plummeted out of sight, a shrill scream that filled her head as she-_

Wendy dug her feet into the ground and yanked her hand back, forcing them to stop.

“Flower friend, what’s wrong-”

“Enough!” she panted and stormed away, catching them off guard.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” he asked worriedly.

“We are wasting time. Abigail needs our help and we’ve done nothing for her since she’s back!” she said coldly.

Wormwood slumped.

“Oh…sorry…” he said guiltily and then looked determined. “Don’t worry, flower friend. I will not come back until I find something to help floaty friend!”

Was it possible for this creature to mope for more than five seconds?

With a bright grin and a promise to play again with them later, he dashed away, leaving the two sisters alone. Wendy immediately felt Abby’s eyes on her and turned away. She didn’t know what came over her back there. Being composed and apathetic came naturally to her, but that moment brought back memories that she would rather not recall.

Not feeling like reading at the moment and having become fed up with her failed attempts to make rabbit traps, she chose to look after the garden instead in the absence of the living root. By the time the sun vanished into the horizon with no sign of him, unease began to creep its way into her thoughts. Feeding their fire pit, she sat there, trying her hardest not to think of what could have happened. Abigail kept her gaze fixed on the surrounding darkness as if expecting Wormwood to come running toward them through the shadows and was readying herself to offer her spectral light to aid him.

For all the two sisters knew, the darkness might have already claimed the naïve root.

The garden on the other side of the camp was almost mocking her. Wormwood’s talents, even if she wouldn’t admit it out loud, had gotten them enough food to last them a while, which meant less relying on traps and berry bushes for her. Yet, she had driven him away.

Chewing on a carrot, Wendy released another long-suffering sigh. Pride and distaste aside, she knew deep down that Wormwood did care for her wellbeing and had her best interests at heart. No matter how hard her mind tried to twist that negatively, there was one thing for certain; this was not the first time she took someone like that for granted and lost them in the end.

Wendy ended up falling asleep with the fire crackling away. Her sister would wake her up if it went low or a monster attacked. Despite having not known him long enough to warrant it, the absence on the other side of the fire was difficult to ignore.

By the time morning came without any sight of him, she knew something was wrong. Two weeks ago, she would have enjoyed the silence and peace; it hadn’t been this quiet since his arrival, but now she awaited his return.

Listening to Abigail’s concerned whispers, Wendy nodded solemnly while putting a few more carrots in her bag. “I know, Abigail. I’m going to search for him,” she said which made the ghost twirl around in joy. They might not find anything at all, but she had to at least look. Her thoughts would drive her mad if she didn’t.

With Abby by her side, she was less hesitant to head out. They wandered for a while without any leads. It wasn’t until they passed the graveyard and got near the pine forest that a loud screech hit her ears.

“Ahhhhh!” Wormwood bolted through the evergreen faster than she saw him and he hurried over upon catching sight of them.

 _He’s alive?_ She thought for a disbelieving moment before seeing how mortified he looked with a red axe in his hands. Knowing his distaste for chopping trees, she couldn’t fathom why he would carry that thing at all.

“Take it, take it, _take it!_ ” he screamed, pushing the axe into her hands before she could utter a word. Any questions she had for him were lost when she came to realize the other source of the noise was _the_ _axe_ _she was holding!_

“Let me go! You will pay once Woodie finds me, you filthy, fiendish-” the axe stopped spewing her threats once she noticed the other person here. “Oh! I didn’t realize a little girl was here!”

Wendy became fascinated by the talking object. She could sense a presence within it, similar to that of Abigail; a spirit residing in a physical vessel. Despite the spirit’s passive state, she was able to communicate with people in a way her ghostly sister could not.

She had to get to the bottom of this. “Where did you find this axe?”

“The red, hairy human had it. I saw him whisper to it like you do with tiny flower!” he was quick to reply.

“That’s Woodie, you oversized weed!” the axe shot back. Wendy dismissed her, clinging to this piece of information.

“So…did I help?” he asked nervously.

He went through the trouble of stealing this just for her sake and despite everything, but why? Wendy really couldn’t understand this root. She thought he was a bumbling fool who would cling to the first person he met and now…

“Yes…this is very good. Well done,” she forced herself to admit and he clapped at the praise.

“Yay!”

“Hey, get back here, you little thief!” a new voice broke in. Wormwood squeaked and hid behind Wendy as a redheaded man stormed toward them. His anger faltered briefly upon seeing her. “Wait, there are more people here?”

“Did you miss all the skeletons?” Wendy asked.

“Um, that wasn’t what I meant- never mind. Give me back my axe!”

Was this the ‘Woodie’ the axe kept talking about? Wendy merely stared, unfazed by his outrage. When he kept approaching, he was startled by Abigail appearing between them, burning red.

“What the-”

“Calm down, dear sister,” Wendy stepped forward and held out the axe to him. “I already have one of my own, so I have no use for this. My companion just thought it was pretty and wanted me to see it,”

The man took the axe and eyed them suspiciously. “Well, he could’ve just asked, eh?” he hummed, quirking a brow at him. “So you’re the plant monster Wolfgang was talking about? Gotta say you’re a lot less menacing-looking than he described,”

“Hello,” Wormwood said with a nervous grin.

Woodie then knelt in front of Wendy. “But this is still no place for a kid like you. My pal and I have a nice camp back in the pines. Whaddya say we go there, eh?” he said with a smile.

Wendy looked at his extended hand, unimpressed, and asked him something else. “What did you wish for that got you here?”

Woodie froze, clearly not expecting that. His face became guarded. “That’s of no importance, kiddo. Now come on,”

“Being with other people is a matter of no interest to me. They will only add to my burdens. Please don’t follow us,” she said and walked away.

Wormwood looked between Woodie and her before waving at him. “Bye-bye, human!”

“Hey, wait up!” Woodie called out, only to be stopped by another warning from the ghost trailing behind them.

Once the man was out of earshot, Wendy turned to Wormwood. “Did you sense anything strange about the axe?”

He rubbed his chin in thought. “Well, it felt funny, but not as much as tiny flower. Not so…” his eyes darted at her uneasily as if searching for the right word. “…cold. No pretty string too!”

Wendy hummed. She had considered this possibility before, but now she was sure she was onto something.

“What you thinking, flower friend?”

“I need some time near the obelisks first,”

She ended up spending the noon sitting there in front of the dark, towering spikes, listening carefully to their whispers and trying to discern as much as she could. She eventually turned to her sister and Wormwood who had been watching her awkwardly from afar.

“I think I found a way to help Abigail…”

“Really?” Wormwood exchanged odd looks with the ghost. “How?”

“We need a lot of meat and wood first,”

Wormwood groaned.

**\-------------**

The two of them worked relentlessly for the next few days. The sky grew grayer and the tress lost the last of their leaves.

“Sorry, tree friend,” Wormwood said, patting a bare tree.

While Abigail helped with hunting for all the meat, he helped Wendy work on …well, he had no idea what it was they were making. They had hollowed out the logs she gathered and asked him to stuff them with the meat. Once done, she began assembling all the parts together into a humanoid figure. 

“One thing left,” Wendy reached over for a sharp piece of flint and grabbed both her pigtails. He gasped when she used it to cut off the end of them, stuffing the fistful of blonde hair inside the head of her creation. “The effigy needs hair. I’m the only one who has any here,” she shrugged at his bewilderment.

The “meat effigy”, as she called it, was soon ready. As it stood there, the three of them observed their work closely with varying reactions. Wormwood shuddered at the lifeless thing, put off by the feeling of sheer _wrongness_ coming from it, which had become a familiar feeling to him by now.

“So what this for?” Wormwood finally asked. “Keep meat?”

“I’ll fully explain later today. All you should know for now is that tonight is a full moon,”

What did that have to do with anything?

“We need to be ready for the approaching winter, mainly in terms of food and clothes,” she said, observing the nearby trees.

“I got us food!” Wormwood chirped, pointing at his garden proudly.

She nodded. “Indeed. All that is left is getting winter-suited clothes from the other survivors,”

“We will go visit?” he asked excitedly.

Her silence dashed his hopes though. She was averting her gaze from his again.

“Flower friend….” He said, disheartened.

“I can’t make a flimsy trap, let alone clothes, and learning how will take too long,” she replied sharply.

He didn’t want to argue with her, especially now when they were on better terms, but he didn’t like this at all. “Why not just _ask_?”

“We don’t know if we can trust them. Everyone here only cares about their own gain and well being. How do you think they will react upon seeing _you_?”

Her question silenced his retort as he was reminded of when that “Wolfgang” chased him out of his camp with a hammer. “Floaty friend?” he turned to Abigail for help. This couldn’t really be their only solution. He refused to think so!

The ghost looked unsure before floating next to Wendy with an apologetic whisper. He slumped. “Fine,”

Wendy led him back to the northern side of the grass fields where the rabbit traps were and remained hidden behind the trees just on the edge of the forest. Wormwood stared in wonder at the camp in the distance. They got way closer to it than last time. It was so much bigger than Wendy’s and he actually could make out new humans too!

There was one woman making a huge fire and standing way too close to it for his comfort. She got a warning from a grey-haired human who had her face buried in a book. The last one was a lanky man with a weird haircut who was busy tinkering with a noisy machine.

“Ladies, please,” the man was saying once he caught on to the brewing argument.

“Forgive me, dear Willow, for worrying about our camp going up in flames!” the human with the book snapped.

 _Willow_ shrugged. “The fire’s perfectly contained. Besides, Wilson and I built this camp way before you showed up, Wickerbottom, _so_ _you have no right_ -”

“Abigail, go,” Wendy whispered as the two women fell into a heated yelling match with the man hanging near them, looking almost frightened to interfere.

The ghost disappeared into the ground and slipped inside the machine, causing the cogs to start turning madly.

“Wilson, what is going on with that thing?” Willow said.

“I’m not sure!” Wilson approached his machine, hesitant to touch it when it gave a loud roar.

Wickerbottom joined his side, fixing her glasses calmly. “It is alright, dear. Let me have a look,”

“Now is our chance,” Wendy muttered and they began making their way to the camp while the three were distracted. Wormwood was actually surprised at how quietly she moved, silent as a breeze. Meanwhile, he felt clumsier than ever with every step sounding as if he was walking on dry leaves. They stopped in front of the three chests placed in a perfect line. Wendy carefully opened one and began looking through it. Disappointed with her findings, she opened another while Wormwood kept his eyes on the three survivors.

“Psst,” Wendy pulled his attention when she took out a woolly hat from the chest and motioned for him to help her. Wormwood picked up a brown furry coat and pressed it against his chest, marveling at its softness.

“Wait, _who’s that?!_ ”

The two stiffened as they found themselves under the eyes of the other survivors. Everyone seemed too stunned to say a thing for a while before Willow scowled.

“Kill it!” she said, eyes on him while she whipped out a red box that breathed flames from its top, making him scream.

“Run,” Wendy was quick to flee with him in tow. Willow was chasing them while Wilson was a bit behind struggling to catch up.

“Stop right now!” Wilson shouted, panting.

“That’s my coat! I’ll torch you, you little menace!” Willow said with a glint in her eyes.

 _“Flower friend!”_ Wormwood wailed.

Pressing her loot to her side, Wendy drew out Abigail’s flower in one hand and whispered into it. Wormwood saw the ghost come gliding across the ground, knocking Wilson then Willow off their feet before joining their side.

Making it back to the edge of the forest, Wormwood glanced back to see the two humans recovering and looking confused. He sighed before following the human child. They ended up with the coat, a scarf, and a woolly hat. Wendy seemed pleased with their loot. Putting them away, they began preparing for the night.

“So…why this?” he asked again, pointing at the effigy.

Wendy walked over it, placing a hand on its chest. “A meat effigy can give a body for dead spirits and resurrect them. At least, that’s what I managed to learn from the shadows. The reason why Abigail cannot use normal means of revival is because of this,” she held out Abigail’s flower in her hand, where the blue thread ended. “Her spirit is bound to her flower, as you are probably able to see. It prevents her from being saved. If she was a free spirit like other people who die in this world, it would be a different story,”

She turned to him. “And this where you come in,”

Wormwood’s gaze broke from the effigy. “Huh?

“You may not realize it, but you have the power to play with life energies,” she said, her hand gesturing to his green core. “A ghost is not the absence of life, but a lingering trace of it, so you may be able to help Abigail pass into the effigy without the risk of her vanishing forever,”

“Um,” Wormwood scratched the back of his head, unsure of what to say. He spotted at the corner of his eye Abigail floating closer to the effigy, her expression unreadable. “But I…I never-”

“Yes, your powers are currently limited to plants, but that is why I waited for tonight specifically. This desolate world awakens under the light of the moon and all that is hidden away from the eyes is revealed. I believe that when its power is at its peak, yours will be too,”

Wormwood’s uncertainty only grew.

“So, will you assist us, Wormwood?” she asked. He looked at her, struck by the fact she was actually using his name, rather than “root” like usual. She may be holding her usual blank expression, but something in her eyes seemed desperate and sorrowful.

“I don’t understand everything you say, but if it will make you and floaty friend happy, then I will help!”

She looked away and hesitantly said. “…thank you,”

The sun soon dipped into the horizon, and the forest darkened. They sat around the fire anxiously. Wendy seemed to be struggling the most to keep her worry unnoticed. The clouds eventually parted. As if a curtain had been pulled, the consuming blackness was driven away and the entire world bathed in ethereal light. Fireflies drifted around the britchnut forest and the fields like stardust. It was as if they slipped into a hazy dream.

Wormwood felt a sudden surge in his green core and brought his hands to his chest, gasping. The gem was pulsing brightly and repeatedly. He raised his head to the pale moon with wonder and nervousness. That permanent stare was stronger than ever.

Something was calling him.

The whole landscape around them meanwhile was humming with life. His senses have become heightened. He could feel everything for miles and miles on end. The critters, the monsters, the other survivors wandering the island…

“Your eyes glow,”

He turned to Wendy, blinking as if had been pulled out of deep sleep. The overwhelming rush made him forget about the sisters entirely. She looked even daintier and more death-like in the pale light as if she would fade into the night air at the slightest breeze. Abigail’s misty form seemed to grow more visible on the other hand.

Loud howls in the distance made them tense up. Whatever made those sounds, even he knew they were better off not meeting it.

“Let’s begin. We shouldn’t waste time,” Wendy said as she took his hand and placed the flower in it. He shivered from it like before, yet the sensation didn’t bother him as much now. He also came to realize the blue thread seemed to be more tangible than before. “Wormwood, you will try to loosen Abigail’s connection to her flower long enough for her to haunt the effigy. We only need a few seconds,”

“I…okay,” he said, hesitantly grabbing the thread and shuddering from the cold bite on his leaves. He began pulling; wincing at the effort it took. The end of the threat unraveled but kept trying to latch back onto the flower. Abigail’s form began waning.

“Abigail, it’s time,” Wendy turned to her sister, who was floating behind them, brows furrowed. She quickly reassured her. “It’s okay. The effigy is guaranteed to work. We can save you!”

“Flower friend, hurry!” Wormwood called, struggling to keep this up.

“This is our chance, Abigail. We can finally be together again. Everything can go back to the way it was!” Wendy urged, desperation alien to all of them in her voice. “Please, do it!”

Abigail’s eyes darted between her and effigy, her face a mess of conflicted emotions before giving a defeated sigh and finally shaking her head.

Wendy’s whole face crumbled.

“Abby…. why?” she murmured, hurt. The ghost wore a pained expression in return.

Wormwood finally lost his grip on the thread and it latched back onto the flower. Giving them one more apologetic look, Abigail disappeared back into it. Wormwood was at a loss.

“F-flower friend…what do I do?”

Wendy was standing still.

“Flower friend, what-” he tried reaching for her, but her shoulders just shook.

Her agonized cry was a sound he never wanted to hear again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go.


	4. Bloom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry this took a while, but college been taking much of my time and this chapter turned out longer than I expected. In fact, I think this is the longest chapter I ever wrote…in any fic before. Yikes. Anyway, thanks for your support and patience. 
> 
> Enjoy the final chapter of Little Flower!

Winter was finally here. The arrival of the bitter cold put an end to their wandering and scavenging as they spent most of their day huddled by their meek fire, desperate for warmth.

Wendy pulled harder on the coat on her as her teeth chittered and her breath fogged in front of her. Despite being obviously made for someone older, she wished it was big enough to swallow her whole. Wormwood meanwhile had the scarf around his upper body as a flimsy shawl and his head branch bent in order for the wooly hat to fit in over his head. Honestly, it did not look like it was doing him much good against the harsh cold, but he made no complaint about it.

There was a time when she thought who wouldn’t survive this long in such a place, yet he proved her wrong just like before.

All around them everything was covered in snow and frost, the once colorful birchnut forest now barren and silent. She learned many things from the shadows, knew about the dreadful winter on this island, yet couldn’t have foreseen just how unforgiving it would truly be. Her camp wasn’t prepared for this, but Wendy’s mind couldn’t be bothered to lament much about it at this point. She was numb to everything except the stinging cold and throbbing in her chest.

There were two of them around the fire. It should have been three.

A shudder ran through her after a bout of dizziness. These were happening a lot since the cold began and she knew being outside to the elements was the cause. When the cold wasn’t bothering her, she would feel uncomfortably hot under her coat. She made no mention of this to Wormwood since she caused him enough trouble and worry already.

This wasn’t how she imagined things would turn out, not even close. It should have been the three of them living in this camp; Wormwood, _Abigail,_ and her, but the flower was still tucked away since the night her ghostly sister left them and Wendy wouldn’t know what to say if she summoned her again. What could she say? Why did her sister have to make things so hard?

She was struck with the urge to lash out, to be angry at Abigail, at Wormwood, at everyone here, but most of all she just wanted to forget everything about that night, push the incident at the far reaches of her mind and move on. The effigy, their wasted time and efforts, Abigail’s defeated expression as she rejected their help, but her mind clung to the memory and went over it again and again. She once swore to never allow these feelings in again, but every reminder only broke her a little more.

“F-flower friend…no t-twigies soon,” Wormwood gestured to the handful of remaining twigs and branches. A cold breeze swept over them and sent snowflakes scattering everywhere. “So cold. What we do?”

Wendy bit her lip, her eyes drifting to the frozen forest surrounding them, the junk Wormwood got from the trader, the bag full of the food from his garden which would turn stale eventually, and the useless rabbit traps she stole. She raked her head for an answer, a way out, but she was lost as ever. They were all alone in the cold, far from any civilization, in a world that wanted them dead. “I…I don’t know…”

That seemed to catch him off-guard. “But flower friend always has plan!”

She usually did, no matter the situation, but her mind had been blank lately and had nothing to give. “I truly…don’t know what to do, Wormwood. Not anymore. I’m…I’m scared,” she admitted. “Everything I’ve done…coming to this world, surviving all this time…it was for her, but all of it was pointless. We’re just stuck here now…”

Wormwood’s face fell and he slowly rested his hand on her back. She gave no protest. If anything, she owed him an explanation. “Back home, when Abigail…died, everything hurt so much. I couldn’t stand it, and nobody understood how I felt!” the pitying and concerned looks her parents sent her way when she began spending most of her time alone in her room, her sudden interest in ghost stories and her refusal to discuss any of what happened in that horrible day. All she could think of was the absence on the other side of her room, which she refused to have anything be moved away from there. She didn’t want to lose the only remaining part of her sister.

It was during that time, when she fell asleep, that looping tune began to fill her dreams.

As Wendy now stared at the clearing, she imagined she and Abigail would be making snowmen outside their house at a time like this. They always loved playing in the snow. “When I learned of a way to see her again, I didn’t even think about it. I thought…Abigail would want the same thing. We’ve always been together and knew each other better than anyone else!”

_She would run around mom’s garden when their flowers bloom cheering at the top of her lungs, insist that there was probably treasure somewhere in the sea for them to find, sheepishly ask for help with her homework at night, get scolded by the teachers while being constantly compared to Wendy in front of everyone._

_“Heh, look at you, comforting me when I’m the one who gets into trouble all the time,” she whipped her face and smiled widely regardless. “Thank you, Wendy,”_

“But I guess I was wrong…”

All this time she always thought they were in this together, thought she knew what Abigail wanted, and never once questioned how she felt.

But Abigail didn’t want to come back.

_I was wrong about many things._

“Maybe…maybe she prefers staying among the dead and leaving me like this-”

“Flower friend, that’s not true!!” Wormwood protested. “I’m sure floaty friend has reason! She always protects you!”

Wendy hugged herself, eyes flickering to the fire. If Abigail wasn’t coming back, what she supposed to do now?

It’s not fair. It’s just wasn’t.

“I only want to see her again, play together like we used to,”

Wormwood blinked. “But floaty friend is there,” he pointed at her pocket where Abigail’s flower was resting.

“It’s not the same!” she huffed.

When Wendy first came here, she had been overjoyed to be reunited with Abigail, but eventually, they both came to realize just how distant they still were from each other. Her sister was nothing but a ghost who could only haunt her. What’s the point when Wendy couldn’t really see Abigail’s face, tease her for her clumsiness, embrace her whenever one of them had a bad day?

Wendy’s eyes misted over. “She could always make things better, find fun in anything. Even when she had so many friends at school, she would spend time with me,”

Wendy was not good with people and hardly had any friends. She was shy and preferred reading alone than running off with other children. Books were easier to understand than people, but Abigail was confident, bright, colorful, and loved by all. Always looking for adventures with eyes full of mischief and a goofy grin. She could always bring a smile to Wendy’s face. Things were never difficult when it was her who was around.

She made Wendy feel…special in a way no one else did. Whenever she was being made fun of or picked on, Abigail would always be ready to come to aid her.

_“Don’t worry, I’m right here, Wendy,” she would say when they were alone again, her eyes full of warmth._

Some things never change.

Wendy thought she was out of tears by this point, but the cold sting on her cheeks told her they were still coming and there was no stopping it. She didn’t want to, had no reason to anymore, and broke into sobs right then and there. Wormwood drew closer and pulled her into a sided hug as she let her tears flow, poured everything out because there was nothing to hide anymore, nothing at all. They sat there in the middle of the falling snow and chilling wind.

“You really love floaty friend,” Wormwood murmured after a while, a weak smile on his face.

Wendy sniffled and wiped her wet cheeks, nodding. “I wish you could have met her back then,”

“I did meet floaty friend with you and she’s really nice!” Wormwood grinned.

Staring at him in surprise, she turned to the fire again. “I…I suppose you have,”

She might not fully understand this creature or why he was here, but his cheerfulness and loyalty no longer seemed naïve to her. Even with how she treated him, even when he had the chance to go with the other survivors, he still stuck by her side until now and never blamed her for the way things turned out.

After everything that happened, she just felt undeserving of it.

**\-------**

Eventually, they had to go look for more wood. Wormwood tried to stay close enough to camp as possible while searching for any broken branches, leaves, or anything they could use to light a fire. The fact that they survived several nights was a miracle considering their circumstances.

He passed by another pale barren birtchnut tree and sighed. He had never seen weather like this before. The jungle-filled plateau he once lived on never got this cold or hauntingly quiet. His plant friends all fell into a deep sleep, and the way the wind bit into his leaves and limbs was just unbearable. He deeply wished for the warm sun to come back. 

But most of all he hated what happened to his human friend.

The little girl was searching for kindling not far from him. She was clinging hard to her coat and walking with shaky steps as if the gentlest of touches could knock her over. He tried convincing her to stay by the fire, but she insisted on coming along.

_“I can help, don’t worry,”_

This was not the same eerie, doll-like child he met in the graveyard who showed no emotion and spoke the gloomiest of things. Her eyes now were red and puffy with dark circles shadowing them. Her once pale cheeks were flushed and when he hugged her, her skin felt warmer to the touch than he expected.

She wasn’t alright and he wished he knew of a way to help her.

Making his way through the snow, he shuddered whenever his feet sunk deep into the blanket of snow. A branch, which he hadn’t noticed at first, was half-buried in the ground. Putting his pile of twigs away, he grabbed the thinner end and yanked until it broke free. He spun around. “Flower friend, look!” his excitement slowly plummeted when she didn’t react to his voice. For the first time, he noticed that she wasn’t just shivering. She was _swaying!_

Wendy was down on the snow before he could ask. Any thought of the firewood or the cold was banished from his mind as he stumbled to her. She was lying on her side, trembling. Raising her up from the snow, he watched as she curled up into him and shivered through the harsh tremors. Her eyes could barely stay open and looked unfocused.

“Let’s go back to fire!” He carefully picked her up and took her to the fire pit. _She’s getting worse_. For the first time, the living root was struck by just how little he understood about humans. He knew nothing about their bodies and how they worked. Plants did get sick from time to time but how would he cure a human? He rummaged through his pile of traded valuables for anything that could help. Maybe there was something in there that could-

“I’m sorry,”

The hoarse words were the last thing Wormwood expected. “Huh?”

“I’ve been causing you nothing but…but trouble. I’m so useless on my own,” she said, her blue eyes nearly unfocused.

“Not true! Flower friend is very brave and knows so much!” he said, giving his most reassuring smile. “You saved me from many scary monsters,”

“Thank you, but…” she lowered her head and began tugging off her coat, much to his dismay.

“Stop! You need this!”

“I want you to have it. It will help you survive,”

“But…what about you?”

She gave him a weak smile. “You’re special, child of the moon. You have to live,”

_What?_

“I know I’ve been hard on you since we met, and I’m…I’m sorry for that. You’re just…so much like her, always looking out for me and trying to cheer me up. I felt like you were taking her place in some way, so I kept pushing you away,” she said quietly, while his dread and confusion grew, “But you are a dear friend of mine, and that’s why I want you to survive. I don’t want death to claim you too,”

What might have deeply touched him at some point now felt like a stab to his core. Shimmering tears welled up in his eyes, bright with an ethereal glow as drifted into the air. “No…please stop that. Y-you will get better, _I promise!_ ”

“You’ve done enough. It’s ok,” she said, looking beyond exhausted. “I might see Abigail, and be with her again. Then maybe she will tell me why…”

 _No!_ Squeezing his eyes shut, his resolve hardened. He rose again with her secured in his arm before heading out into the cold. There was one place that came to mind, the only one who would know how to help her. He just hoped he would be able to get there before they both froze to death. His green core was pulsing and flashing constantly, fighting feebly to keep them warm and alive.

He already missed the comfort of their lovely fire.

But he could make out the pine forest poking in the distance. He hugged the little girl closer to his chest. Despite the sounds of discomfort from Wendy snapping him awake, the gentle lull of sleep tugged at his mind. His vision was getting foggier by the moment. He tried summoning every ounce of alertness he could muster, but something in him wanted nothing more than to lay in the soft-looking snow and sleep, forget about his aching limbs and exhaustion.

He looked up to the clouds and thought of the moon. _Please?_ He wished for that same power that filled him that night. He would have found the way easily, would have had the strength to keep going, but the glowing shape remained hidden among the dark clouds. Finally running out of strength, Wormwood stopped walking, his knees giving out. Something fell at the corner of his vision; Abigail flower. Mist streaming out of it, the ghostly child was blinking like someone awoken from a deep slumber and looked alarmed at the sight of her sister in his arms.

Fresh tears welled up in Wormwood’s eyes at the reminder. “H-help, please. She-… _I don’t know what to do_!” he stared ahead. “Go to forest. Find humans. Hurry, please!”

Hesitating to leave them behind, Abigail nodded and flew away. 

The snow kept falling harder. The forest was barely visible now. Just…maybe if he rested a bit-

A sound suddenly broke through the wind and his hazy thoughts. It was deep and distorted. Wormwood squinted around and was able to make out someone watching them from afar. “H-hello?” he called meekly.

It hit him that something was wrong. Its form would stretch and spasm in a way that was unnatural.

And it began moving toward them.

Terror seized him. “G-go away!” he shouted, but it gave no response as it glided over the snow without making a sound. The eerie noises meanwhile overlapped and echoed louder and louder in his head. His green core flashed.

Just as it was upon them, light exploded everywhere.

\--------

“Food almost ready!” Wolfgang cheered, stirring the pot and giving a pleased sigh at the warm aroma coming from the stew.

Woodie laughed. “I hope you didn’t throw all our meat in there. Winter just got here,”

The strongman only pouted. “But Wolfgang got us so many meats!”

“Well, if you say so,”

The campfire threw a red glow over the darkness and snow. With his friend supplying him with animal fur, Woodie’s skill with the needle came in handy. Now deeply snuggled in their fur coats and with the fire crackling away, it felt quite cozy actually. _Kinda like back home_. He gave Lucy a gentle pat and glanced at the dark forest, unease creeping over him. Despite having met more humans around here, that frail-looking girl stayed on his mind.

“What’s wrong, Wood man?”

“Oh, it’s just…I’m a little worried I guess,” he said, hoping beyond all reason that his fears were nothing more than that. He grunted when he felt a light tug on his foot. Glancing down, Chester was biting his boot and trying to snatch it off.

“Hey, cut it out, you little rascal!” Woodie shook his foot out of his mouth and grimaced at the wet marks. “These are my only pair, you know!”

Wolfgang gave a booming laugh only for it to die down and his face somehow grew paler. Raising a brow, Woodie was about to question it when his friend let out a screech so loud he was pretty sure the entire forest heard it. He pointed speechlessly behind Woodie with a trembling finger.

Woodie looked back to see the familiar pale being flying down toward them. “You? What are you doing here?” he spoke curtly, tightening his grip on his axe. He might not know much about ghosts, but he wouldn’t let his guard down after seeing how hostile she had been toward him before.

The ghost made all sorts of distressed noises as if trying to tell him something. “Hold on, I can’t understand a thing from what you’re saying!”

She kept bobbing her head with a look of panic toward a direction he knew all too well and a gaping hole opened within him.

“Oh no…” he quickly grabbed Chester’s eyebone. “Wolfgang, grab a torch, and let’s go! The kids!”

They rushed out of their camp with the ghost guiding them through the snowy wind, a million horrid scenarios playing in his minds on what could have happened. They made it halfway through when a blast of light nearly blinded them and knocked the wind in their direction.

“W-what was that?” Wolfgang pulled his spear closer to his chest.

The ghost was stunned for a second before darting ahead with renewed urgency. All they could do was follow her trail until they came across something that caught them off-guard, snow that melted in a perfect circle with a patch of lush grass and the most colorful flowers. The entire area radiated warmth, an affront to the bitter, frozen wasteland they were standing in.

“Pretty,” Woodie heard his friend murmur as they carefully stepped on the grass while he tried to wrap his mind on what on earth could have done this. It was no hallucination, that was for sure. Could it be a trap? He wouldn’t put it past the man in the suit to pull off something like this to ensnare them or something.

He saw the ghost hovering worriedly in the middle of the circle with something flashing over there. They rushed over to find the girl and plant man, disheveled and unconscious.

**\--------**

At some point, the cold that plagued him for days disappeared, but his bleary mind couldn’t pick up on much for a while. He was then surrounded by warmth. Blinking, Wormwood groaned at the soreness in his limps and realized a thick blanket was draped over him. His movements were lethargic as he tried making sense of his surroundings. He was somewhere dark and cozy.

It wasn’t long until he sensed something off about himself. He raised his arm to see leaves having sprouted over it and instinctively touched his head where a big flower bloomed. This didn’t make any sense. The earth was quiet. His plant friends should be at their strongest if he was blooming. What’s happening?

Even his green core felt different. Something changed.

“How do you feel?”

The second the face came into focus, Wormwood cried out and nearly threw himself into the other corner.

“No, it’s okay. I won’t hurt you!” Wilson said, drawing his hands back. It was definitely the same man from before, but he grew a massive beard since he last saw him. “You have my word,”

Wormwood wasn’t sure he could believe that. He had no idea how he ended up here with this human.

Abigail suddenly appeared in front of him, twirling joyfully.

“Floaty friend…” he said weakly, feeling somewhat at ease after seeing her.

“Yes, she’s been hanging around since you two were brought here,” there was an odd look on Wilson’s face when he spoke of Abigail. His frown deepened and his brows furrowed as if he would rather not speak of her at all.

The absence of his other friend caught up to Wormwood quickly. “F-flower friend, where is she?!”

“Flower-you mean the little girl? She’s over there,” Wilson gestured to the other side of the tent where Wendy lay on a makeshift bed similar to his, her hair loose. Wormwood’s relief didn’t last when he noticed the clear discomfort on her face. Abigail floated over to her, looking downcast.

“We’ve been doing our best with her fever,” Wilson said, rubbing his neck with a sigh. “Mr. Woodie and Wolfgang brought you here last night. They pleaded for us to help you two,”

“Oh,” so Abigail did manage to reach them. “Thanks, floaty friend,”

Abigail’s face lit up, if only for a moment.

“Anyway…here, you’ve been asleep for a while. You must be hungry,” Wilson held a bowl of something red and mushy and quirked a brow. “Er, forgive me, but you can eat human food, right? Can’t say I met someone like you before,”

Despite his general unease, the mention of food caused a bang in his stomach and he nodded. Taking the bowl, he grabbed a fistful of the red mush and stuffed it in his mouth, chewing warily.

“Not fond of spoons, I suppose?”

Wormwood gave him a questioning look and was startled when heat flowed through his body all of a sudden. Wilson cracked a grin.

“That’s Willow’s special recipe. Should help you warm up. Admittedly, she is far better at cooking than I ever could be,”

Wormwood stopped chewing and looked away, finally voicing the other thing on his mind. “You…not afraid?”

The man blinked at that and bit his lip. “Well…between giants, talking pigs, and pet chests, I can confidently say you’re not the strangest creature I’ve met, so don’t worry about that,” he said with a polite smile. “I do have some questions, if you’re interested in answering them later that is,”

“Um, ok?” Wormwood looked down at his bowl, unsure of how to react to that. He was so used to being feared. “Will flower friend be ok?”

Wilson sighed. “Well, I do hope so,”

An hour passed with him lying in his bed, listening to Wilson move around the tent and muttering quietly to himself. He hadn’t been around that many grownup humans before, but the way his eyes seemed lost elsewhere reminded him a bit of Wendy. The man would occasionally cast a glance his way, probably struggling to withhold his questions for the time being. Abigail was hovering over her sister protectively, while Wilson still seemed unnerved by her.

Later, the old woman who also lived in his camp slipped into the tent and seemed pleased to see him. “It’s good to see you awake, dear. It troubles me greatly to think you children were out there on your own,”

Wormwood had not much to say except shrug in response. She asked him how he felt and eventually suggested that he went outside to be near the fire if he felt well enough for that. Considering how little the sight of his sick friend did for his peace of mind, he reluctantly agreed. Covering himself with his blanket, he stood up and followed Wickerbottom, sending one more worried glance to the sleeping child and her sister.

He blinked at the sunlight as they stepped outside and saw the familiar camp around him. The chests, the little farm, and everything else looked exactly the same as when he first snuck here. Woodie, Willow, and Wolfgang were sitting around the roaring fire, with the bearded man being in the middle of sharing some story. Wolfgang had Chester in his lap and was scratching between the creature’s horns. Willow had what was likely several layers of grass blankets draped over her as she remained huddled so unnervingly close to the fire that the flames nearly licked her face.

Wickerbottom cleared her throat and all eyes were soon on them. Woodie was the first to react as he rushed to his side.

“Plant guy, great to have you back!” the man grinned, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

“H-hello,” Wormwood said sheepishly.

Wickerbottom frowned. “Careful now, he’s still recovering,”

Woodie turned to her. “Does that mean…?” she shook her head wearily. He growled and kicked the snow. “I’m such an idiot! This is all my fault. They were right in front of me back then and I just like them go! I should’ve got them to stay with me and Wolfgang,”

“We went over this already. No one is to blame for what happened,” Wickerbottom said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “We saw them too, but our first reaction was to panic and be angry,”

“I know…” Woodie groaned and glanced over to his muscular companion who still standing awkwardly by the fire, watching from afar. “Come on, buddy. You carried him all the way here. He’s perfectly fine,”

Gulping, Wolfgang shuffled over, wringing his hands together. Wormwood couldn’t help taking a step back. “H-hi, I’m Wolfgang,” he mumbled and averted his gaze guiltily. “Sorry for chasing with hammer before. Hope little girl is okay,”

“It’s…it’s alright,”

Woodie beamed, hands on his hips. “There, see? All better now!”

“Let’s get you by the fire, dear,” Wickerbottom led him to the fire pit, which was much bigger than the one at Wendy’s camp. He was a little hesitant to sit near the woman who threatened to set him on fire once, but having the others around put him somewhat at ease. Willow’s pale face was only the thing visible through the mess of blankets. She refused to look at him and kept her gaze on the roaring flames, but he noticed, despite how close she was to it, her teeth were almost chattering.

“So, how’s the work on that remedy, Mrs. Wickerbottom?” Woodie asked, kneeling beside her.

The old woman whipped out a green book and flipped through the pages. “The flora in this world is somewhat similar to the ones from ours, so I can give you instructions on where to locate the right ones. The biggest challenge is getting around in this terrible weather,” she said grimly.

“Ha! Leave it to us. Lucy, Wolf, and I can handle just about anything!” Woodie said, swinging his axe over his shoulder.

“YES!” Wolfgang rose up too and flexed his muscles only for the sound of tearing to reach their ears. “Sorry,”

“Wolfgang, I just fixed that!” Woodie slumped.

Wormwood sat awkwardly among all of this. As much as he appreciated their efforts in helping his friend, he felt beyond out of place.

“I can’t believe we’re just letting these two wander here, after everything,” Willow finally said without breaking her stare, causing everyone to fall silent.

“Well, jeez,” Woodie grumbled.

Wickerbottom scoffed at her. “So you would rather we left these children out in the cold?”

Willow returned her glare full force. “That’s not I meant, Wickerbottom, and _you know it!_ ” she looked at Wormwood for the first time. “My problem is that you and your friend are just so selfish! We all work hard every day to survive in this nightmare hole and you think you can just walk in and take our stuff. I spent weeks working on that coat so I wouldn’t freeze to death only for you guys to mess it up. For all you know, Wolfgang and Woodie could’ve carried you to a camp full of frozen skeletons,”

She glared at the fire pit again. “Not only did you two take our winter clothes but I’m sure it is you who’s been stealing our rabbit traps!”

“Is that true, kid?” Woodie asked, but Wormwood’s nervous silence told them everything they needed to know. The lumberjack sighed and rubbed his temples. “That’s not good, buddy. If you two had it that bad, then why did you refuse to come with me? We would’ve helped,”

By now Wormwood wanted to sink into the ground. The weight of their past deeds finally caught up to him. Willow was right. It really was selfish and mean of them, and there is no excusing it. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Be mad at me, but please help flower friend!”

Willow groaned. “We _are_ going to help her. I didn’t say we wouldn’t,”

With nothing more to be said, they sat mostly in silence save for the discussion between Woodie and Wickerbottom. The old woman then asked Wormwood to go back to rest in the tent and as she led him away, he couldn’t help asking. “If…if you looking for plant friend, I can help,”

But she gave him a tired smile. “No, dear. You must rest. You have done quite enough for now,”

Those words again, nearly parroted by the old woman. Why did they leave such a burning in his chest?

Day after day crawled by with Wendy still bedridden. Wormwood didn’t know what to do. He was told to wait for any changes, for her to get better, but the waiting further fed his restlessness. He couldn’t find peace even in his sleep. Whenever he closed his eyes, he was back in those frozen wastes carrying Wendy through the snow, but it would be a full-blown blizzard. The howling wind would be drowning out his calls and the distorted silhouettes watching him from the white haze. In the end, they would swarm around him before he could even scream.

Wormwood woke up trembling every time. 

It was Wilson and Wickerbottom who tended to the sick child and took shifts during different parts of the day. When Wilson was free to go about outside, he would tinker with the noisy machine Abigail once haunted, a “science machine” as he called it proudly. He would coax Wormwood over to show him how it worked. The root understood nothing, but he pretended to anyway to make the man happy. Woodie and Wolfgang stopped by every now and then to give Wickerbottom her herbs and occasionally share some of the meat from their successful hunts.

“Hey,”

Wormwood stopped just as he was about to head into the tent for the evening. He squeaked and clutched his blanket closer when he saw it was Willow. She cast her eyes around as if debating something in her head before sighing. “I’ve heard from Wilson that you’ve been having trouble sleeping, so…here,” she held out a stuffed animal out to him. It was a tattered bear covered in soot. “This is my old buddy, Bernie. He always helps me get a good night’s rest. I thought maybe he will help you too?” she said, sounding unsure.

Wormwood was at a loss as the teddy bear was passed to him. “Oh, um, thank you, but I don’t want to take anymore…”

“It’s fine this once,” She crossed her arms firmly. “Make sure to take good care of him. Am I clear, plant boy?” though her voice was stern, there was a teasing note to it.

“Y-yes, yes. Cuddly friend will be safe!”

“Good night, then,” with that, she turned around and left.

Wickerbottom raised a curious brow at the familiar toy suddenly in his possession but said nothing about it as she tended to Wendy. Wormwood lay with the bear in his arms. Something about the worn-out animal felt oddly comforting, banishing the gloom hanging over his mind. He ended up sleeping comfortably for the first time in a while.

“So, like it?” Woodie said one morning, backing away from the scarecrow.

“But why? For what purpose?” Wilson looked up from the straw hat to the grass suit, unimpressed.

Woodie grinned. “Gives it personality, eh?”

“It’s a waste of perfectly usable grass,”

“You live in a freaking grass field, Wil. How can you run out of it?!”

Wilson huffed. “Well, I’m sure Wormwood agrees with me, right?”

“Huh? Um, it looks…nice?” the root said, trying his best to mask his unease by the thing. It reminded him too much of the meat effigy.

Woodie gave Wilson a triumphant look while the other scoffed back.

“I’ve had it. Out of the way!” Willow huffed from the center of the camp, dropping her blankets on the ground. She picked up several logs from the pile before tossing them into the fire.

“No!” Wormwood nearly shielded his eyes when she stepped into the pit and sat there as the flames swallowed her whole. To the shock of most, she remained perfectly fine, letting out a relaxed sigh.

Woodie gaped. “What on earth?”

“Willow, not again!” Wilson groaned, running over to her.

“I’m not freezing my butt off for another second, Wilson Higgsbury!”

Wormwood found himself laughing a little. He might have feared these humans at some point and still knew next to nothing about them, but they weren’t as bad as he once thought.

“Everyone!” Wickerbottom’s voice suddenly came from the tent. “She’s waking up!”

Stunned for a moment, Wormwood was rushing inside in seconds. He saw the girl grunting on the makeshift bed while the lady gently rubbed her forehead.

Wendy leaned into it, mumbling hoarsely. “Mom…?”

“I’m sorry, little one. Just an old librarian,” Wickerbottom said with a sympathetic smile.

“Who-” Wendy blinked and her sullen eyes locked onto the lady before sitting up, her hair nearly covering her face and expression guarded. The girl’s eyes caught Wormwood behind her and she gasped. “Wormwood? What happened to you?”

He couldn’t hold it anymore and threw himself at her. _“Flower friend!”_ he wailed as he hugged her tightly, barely withholding his tears. His friend was alive and awake!

“Careful, she’s still- ugh,” Wickerbottom sighed in defeat. “Never mind,”

“You look different,” she muttered confusedly but remained in the hug.

“I’m bloomy!” he laughed tearfully, poking his leafy head. “I have flower too now!”

Wendy blinked. “Oh,”

An excited whisper came from above them and Abigail flew to Wendy’s side, looking beyond relieved. Wendy’s face crumbled and she looked down miserably. The rejection clearly stung Abigail as she drifted back from her sister.

While Wickerbottom looked between the two sisters, puzzled, Wormwood’s spirits plummeted. He should have known things would still be tense between his two friends after their last meeting.

Wendy shifted her red-ringed eyes to him. “So, you brought me here?”

He winced. That was a long story he didn’t wish to recall. “Um, yes, I mean. I know you said not to go here. You were really sick and I tried, but…sorry,” he said, ducking his head in shame.

She stared at him for a moment. “No,” she said hesitantly, glancing at the old woman at the corner of her eye. “Don’t apologize. You made the right decision. I…I was wrong. Thank you,”

His only response was to squeeze her tighter in their hug.

By now more people came into the tent, all sharing curious yet relieved looks on their faces. Wolfgang could only poke his head through the entrance because of his size. Wormwood felt the little girl tense up against him and knew her trust in these people was still shaky.

“Hello,” Wilson smiled. “I’m glad you feel better, miss…?”

“Wendy,” she said reluctantly. “Thank you for caring for me and my friend,”

“Don’t think much of it, dear,” Wickerbottom said.

“Nice to see you up and well, kid,” Woodie waved from his spot with a grin. Wendy stared at him with an unreadable look but said nothing.

“As glad as I am about the kid getting better, I still think we need to talk about the…mischief they caused around here,” Willow said, and Wormwood deeply wished she didn’t.

Wilson nodded. “I would have to agree. You two have taken our belongings and had your…” he trailed off as he gestured to Abigail. “…ghost friend attack us,”

“Please, don’t blame them. I was the one behind everything,” Wendy broke in.

Wormwood frowned. “Flower friend-”

“No, it’s the truth. I didn’t know if I could trust anyone here when I first arrived and I’m not good at hunting or making clothes, so I’ve taking from you to ensure my own survival,” she said, guilt shadowing her face. “When I met Wormwood, he didn’t like what we were doing and suggested that we ask, but I convinced him that we had no other choice. I’m sorry for everything,”

Wilson stroked his beard and exchanged looks with his friends before giving a thoughtful hum. “Alright, I guess you will be the one stuck with extra chores around the camp,”

_What?_

Both of them stared at the scientist in puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

He sighed wearily. “We are all lost in this world, and we should’ve stuck together when we had the chance. I spoke with my friends, and we’ve decided you two should stay with us,”

For Wormwood, the offer didn’t need any thought. He threw himself at Wilson before the man could back away, and jumped up and down gleefully. “Yes, yes, yes!” he cheered while Wilson grew flustered at the laughter surrounding them.

“Wendy, you haven’t given us your answer yet,” Wickerbottom noted.

Wormwood paused, turning back to the girl. She still looked unsure but nodded anyway. “Alright, but can we be alone for a moment?”

The message was clear and the humans left, leaving Wormwood and the two sisters alone in the tent. The tension was impossible to miss, even to him.

“Why are you here, Abigail?” Wendy’s voice was laced with hurt. The ghost flinched.

“Floaty friend got help. She waited for you to wake,” Wormwood argued, even though he didn’t feel like it was his place to interject.

“She had no problem leaving us before,” Wendy said, her fingers digging hard into her blanket as she stared at her sister. “We only wanted to save you. Everything I’ve done was for us to be together again, just like we used to, but then you left me just like it was nothing… _why?_ ”

Abigail just looked down in defeat.

Wormwood was distraught, not wanting them to fight after they were back together again. A whisper took his attention to Abigail’s flower near Wendy’s hand. It was like something was tugging at him, beckoning him to reach for. He didn’t know what drove him to, yet he took the flower into his hands.

“Hey, what are-”

He was faintly aware of what was being said to him, of his core flashing and flickers of light at the corner of his vision. His gaze stayed locked with the tiny thing and he dove into murky depths, whispers surrounding him from everywhere, yet he felt no fear at all.

\-------------------

Wendy could only stare. Wormwood’s eyes and gem were glowing. Little bubbles of light were drifting out of the flower on his head and drifting around the tent like stars. Her knowledge of this world gave her no insight on this.

“Wormwood, what’s happening?!” she called out, yet he didn’t seem to hear her and remained entranced by Abigail’s flower. She was almost tempted to yell for the others to come help. The blue thread on the flower meanwhile began to glow and so did her sister, who blinked in surprise.

_“Whoa, that felt weird,”_

Wendy’s worried thoughts came to an absolute halt. _No, it can’t be_. She slowly turned to Abigail, her eyes wide. “Abigail, your voice…it’s clear to me…”

She was never able to hear her sister’s voice before, not this clearly, only muffled whispers that conveyed her feelings. It was almost as if she was right here…

 _“It is?! C-can you really hear me?”_ Abigail said and Wendy nodded dumbly. _“Wow, I don’t where to begin. I…”_ she looked like she had a hundred things to say at once, but her face turned sorrowful eventually. 

_“I’m really sorry for leaving you, Wendy. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just…didn’t know how to explain this to you, especially with how hard it is for us to talk before,”_ she began. _“I do miss you, Wendy, and Mom and Dad, and our home, but I can’t come back,”_

“But why? We had our chance with the effigy!” Wendy said. She wasn’t angry, not anymore, just upset and confused.

_“That day on the cliff, I got reckless and caused you, and our parents so much pain. I never forgave myself for it, but I wouldn’t want the same fate for you. I want you to be happy,”_

Wendy felt her heart break all over again. “But that’s why I need you back…”

 _“I don’t know if I’ll be allowed to go back home, even if I did use the effigy. You would know more about these things than I do,”_ Abigail’s eyes grew worried. _“This place is full of danger, Wendy. I can feel it all around, especially coming from down below us. I’m very strong like this, and as long as you’re here, I want you and everyone to be safe. If that’s what it takes then…I don’t mind things the way they are,”_

“It’s not fair!” Wendy shook her head through her tears and gazed down. “It’s not fair at all…”

Abby drifted closer, and instead of answering, she simply pressed her forehead against hers. Stunned, Wendy squeezed her eyes shut and let her tears fall. A third body pressed itself against hers and held her in a tight embrace, almost telling her that everything would be okay.

It wouldn’t be, she thought, not for a while. But at least she wouldn't go through this alone again.

\------------------

Save for the occasional attack of hounds, things have somewhat calmed down at the camp for the rest of winter. Wormwood was glad for that.

His new human friends were very nice and they ate together around the fire through the colds nights. They were understanding of Wendy’s situation and gave her space. Wickerbottom even offered the little girl to go through her book collection. A flicker of intrigue flashed on Wendy’s face.

“Well, I do love to read,”

He and Abigail would listen to her read by the fire, though he still didn’t understand half what these books spoke of. Amused, Wendy would try to explain things about her world and occasionally Wilson or Willow would interject to add their contribution. The more Wormwood heard about this other world, the curious he got about it.

“Are you sure you won’t stay? We would love if you stuck around,” Wilson said when Woodie and Wolfgang came by with some supplies to share.

“Nah, this place is too barren. I would go nuts without any trees around!” Woodie flashed him a grin. “But don’t worry. We will be around,”

Wolfgang passed a huge bag to Willow who gaped after looking inside it. “Did you two go crazy on a beefalo herd? Where did you get so much fur and meat?”

Laughing, the lumberjack idly scratched his beard. “We had, um, an unexpected visitor at our camp last night,”

“Big monster was nothing to Wolfgang!” the strongman said with pride, though his trembling legs told them everything they needed to know.

“By the way, you’re all about science and stuff, here!” Woodie reached into his bag and tossed something pale and round in Wilson’s direction.

The scientist caught it and stared at the huge, veiny eyeball for a moment before screaming and dropping it immediately. “What is the matter with you?!” he shouted while Woodie and Willow laughed.

With some disgust, Wickerbottom picked up the eye and hummed thoughtfully while Wilson whipped his hands, gagging. “It will be an excellent study sample. You have our gratitude,”

“It’s nothing,” Woodie shrugged and waved at Wormwood and the sisters. “See ya, kids! Take care, eh?”

“Bye!” Wormwood waved back and noticed the stoic look on Wendy’s face as she watched them leave. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s…never mind,” she said, but he could tell she was trouble by something. He wondered if she was still thinking about Woodie’s talking axe.

Wormwood felt the change in the weather before the signs gave it away. Winter was over. The air grew warmer and the snow melted. Now was as good as time as any to execute their plan.

“Wake up!” Wormwood shouted, bursting into Wilson’s tent one morning and startling him.

“W-what, are we in danger?!” Wilson quickly shoved a helmet on his head and yelped when the living root grabbed him by the hand and rushed him outside where Willow was with her bear, looking as cranky as ever.

“There better be a _good_ reason for waking me up this early,”

“There is!” Wormwood grabbed her hand too and hurried to the southern part of the field. Jumping ahead, he spread his arms wide, presenting the surprise “Ta-da!”

An entire square of the field was covered in colorful crops; tomatoes, eggplants, potatoes, pepper, and more. Wormwood ran over and dashed by a line of crops. Wendy and Abigail were wandering excitedly in the garden, waving at them.

He meanwhile giggled at the two’s awestruck expression.

“What…is _that_? W-where…where did it-” Wilson was having trouble speaking, pressing a hand against his forehead.

“It’s to say sorry,” Wormwood admitted as he came back, rubbing his arm. “Made so much trouble,”

“I caught him and Wendy working in the field when I wasn’t getting any sleep,” Wickerbottom approached them, her green book tucked at her side. “When they explained everything, I thought of helping them a little with their surprise. It seems our little green friend has a few interesting talents,” she said, looking at him with a smile. Wormwood looked away sheepishly

“No kidding…” Wilson watched the sisters race in the space between the lines of fruit and vegetables. He turned to Wormwood with his hands on his hips and smiled. “And you two more than made up for your everything, so you don’t have to apologize anymore. I told you, you’re part of our home now,” he said, much to Wormwood’s surprise.

The thought of this place being his home, with all these people as his friends was just…unreal.

“This. IS. Awesome!” Willow cried out as she yanked a tomato. “We will have food for days!”

“You are being too rough with the plants,” Wickerbottom huffed while Willow simply stuck her tongue out at her.

Having already become familiar with their disputes, Wormwood backed away while Wilson groaned and went over to them. He looked around and breathed in the spring air. There was a hint of rain, maybe even a storm in the distance, but that took nothing from the moment.

“Abigail really likes your garden,”

He yelped when Wendy appeared by his side, not making a sound as usual. Sighing with relief, he looked at the beaming ghost. “Thanks, floaty friend!” he turned to Wendy. “And you? Is it nice?”

Wendy blinked at the question and stared at the garden for a moment. “…yes, it is,” she said, a shy smile breaking over her face, and that’s exactly what he hoped to see. Her face then fell, to his concern. “I do have to admit to you that I initially was using you to get my sister back. No matter how much I wish to see her alive again, I’m still…glad you’re both here right now. And I’m glad to have met you,”

Her tiny hand found his and she smiled again. Before he could respond to that, Wilson called out.

“Children, look what we found!”

They went over to the three curiously to see Wickerbottom pushing some of the leaves and stems to reveal a red, spikey fruit, its vivid colors making it stand out among the greenery. He thought it looked very pretty.

“What is that?” Wormwood asked.

“It’s dragon fruit, dear. It’s the only one in the whole field, so it must be very rare,” the old librarian explained.

Willow gave a hum. “Never thought I would see something like in this crazy place. I love the name though,” she looked around. “Soooo…who’s gonna take it?”

Wilson gave her a suspicious look. “I don’t see why-”

“Wormwood should have it,” Wendy said, getting everyone’s attention. She looked up at him. “For saving me and my sister,”

Abigail made her approval clear as she flew around them in circles, cheering.

Glancing between the two women, Wilson eventually nodded. “You know what? I agree,”

Wormwood awkwardly stepped closer with Wendy by his side as Wilson plucked the dragon fruit and handed it to him.

“You deserve it,”

As he held the bright, red fruit in his hands and looked around at the smiling faces around him, Wormwood’s core grew warmer and he teared up, sparkling tears drifting up into the air. Everyone looked surprised.

“Are you okay?” Wendy asked, looking up at him with concern.

Wormwood smiled and whipped at his tear-full eyes.

“Yes…thank you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand done! Thank you all for following the story and for all your support. There were many ideas for how this story could’ve ended, one being very sad and feels-y, but I chose to stick with this one. This was such an enjoyable experience and I do hope to write more for this fandom in the future.
> 
> Until next time! :)

**Author's Note:**

> It’s amazing to me how different yet alike Wormwood and Wendy are (being lonely and all). They are quite fun to write though. Anyway, two more chapters to go!


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